late before, and however
far he may have gone a-field, there has been more than time for him to
return at his slowest pace. Duncan," (as the butler entered), "turn out
all the men and boys as fast as you can. Tell Roderick to get lanterns
ready--as many as you have. Gentlemen, we must all go on this search
without another moment's delay!"

There is little need to say that Barret's friends and comrades were not
slow to respond to the call. In less than a quarter of an hour they
were dispersed, searching every part of the Eagle Cliff, where he had
been last seen by Giles Jackman.

They found him at last, pale and blood-stained, making ineffectual
efforts to crawl from the spot where he had fallen, both the eagle and
the broken gun being found beside him.

"No bones broken, thank God!" said Giles, after having examined him and
bound up his wounds. "But he is too weak to be questioned. Now, lads,
fetch the two poles and the plaid. I'll soon contrive a litter."

"All right, old fellow! God bless you!" said Barret, faintly, as his
friend bent over him.

Roderick and Ivor raised him softly, and, with the eagle at his side,
bore him towards Kinlossie House. Soon after, their heavy tramp was
heard in the hall as they carried him to his room, and laid him gently
in bed.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

SUSPICIONS, REVELATIONS, AND OTHER MATTERS.

With a swelled and scratched face, a discoloured eye, a damaged nose,
and a head swathed in bandages--it is no wonder that Mrs Moss failed to
recognise in John Barret the violent young man with the talent for
assaulting ladies!

She was not admitted to his room until nearly a week after the accident,
for, although he had not been seriously injured, he had received a
rather severe shock, and it was thought advisable to keep him quiet as a
matter of precaution. When she did see him at last, lying on a sofa in
a dressing-gown, and with his head and face as we have described, his
appearance did not call to her remembrance the faintest resemblance to
the confused, wild, and altogether incomprehensible youth, who had
tumbled her over in the streets of London, and almost run her down in
the Eagle Pass.

Of course Barret feared that she would recognise him, and had been
greatly exercised as to his precise duty in the circumstances; but when
he found that she did not recognise either his face or his voice, he
felt uncertain whether it would not be, perhaps, better to say nothing
a